Another Wood and Weasely story
by Ren Ichimoku fan1
Summary: A sequel to: /s/6928457/1/Katja-had-a-great-idea. Some time has past, and now it's Christmas, George has to face Oliver Wood, even though the lingering feelings he had are still much present. But is Oliver as dense as the Weasely's think he is? Wanted to finish this story before Christmas but didn't had the time, so merry Christmas everyone, please R&R.


It has been a while ago since I made an oneshot about Oliver Wood and George Wease. An OTP I still adore, and recently, I've been watching the Harry Potter movies again, getting into the flow going again. So, in joy of the Christmas spirit I present, another Wood & Weasely story, courtesy of RenIchiMokuFan1. Please do read my other story: s/6928457/1/Katja-had-a-great-idea

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the honors for creating this terrific universe go to J.K Rowling.

Chapter one.

It was Christmas time, or at least, almost, just a few more hours before it actually would be Christmas. And Harry, as usual, was invited to stay with the Weasely's, rather than being alone at school, or for heaven's sake, going to the Dursley's. Harry had to admit that Christmas at the Weasely's was great, but you never knew what to expect. He and Ron watched as one of the twins was banging his head repeatedly against the oak table that Molly just had finished polishing. ''Is this a new tradition?'' Harry whispered, wondering if the twins were up to their usual business, or something just was off. ''I don't have clue. Don't want to ask though.'' Ron shrugged.

''Is he still doing that?'' another voice joined in the conversation. Both Harry and Ron looked to the door, only to see the other twin staring at the scenery. ''Forge, stop doing that, and just tell what's up. You are going to leave a mark, and I'm not going to do bump my head into some wood all day to make us equal again.'' Fred said, walking towards his twin, but George didn't stop.

''Just how long has he been doing that?'' Harry wondered out loud. ''Since this morning. Percy had something, don't recall what though, don't care what prefects blabber about.'' Fred said, shaking his head at George's behaviour. ''We should stop him then, this can't be healthy.'' Harry agreed, ''How are you going to that? Both of them are stubborn, one more than the other at times like these.'' Ron said. 'You mean that all Weasely's are stubborn.' Harry thought, but was to reluctant to say it. Not that it mattered, for Fred beat it to him. ''You are one to talk.'' he said, before managing to sneak a hand to George forehead, lifting his head up, succesfully stopping the younger twin with whatever he was doing.

''Leave me alone.'' George mumbled. ''What were you even doing? Knocking yourself out? You weren't making progress. Not that I care, I would have taken care of your share of the christmas dinner.'' Ron said. ''Take it.'' George mumbled. ''We can't feed Ron that much more, Hermoine would kill us for letting him get fat.'' Fred said, before Harry added, ''Wouldn't worry about Hermoine. Draco is the one we should worry about.'' Fred nodded in agreement, turning to George as he said, ''Come on, at least tell me what's up then.'' ''I want to skip Christmas dinner all together, I just don't feel like it.'' George said.

''Are you mad? Christmas is wonderful time, especially here. Why would you want to skip Christmas?'' Harry medled in, before feeling slightly guilty about saying that. It was not really his place, maybe George just wasn't feeling like it. He couldn't imagine it, though, seeing that George possessed such a cheerful character. ''I really don't want to talk about it.'' George said, somewhat gloomly, as he got up. ''I'm going to bed.'' he added, before bolding upstairs.

''Sheesh, what has crawled up his arse and died. Say, Fred, you two have twin-telephathy right. Why not read his mind, and solve it that way.'' Ron asked. ''It doesn't work like that, Ron. Wait, it doesn't right?'' Harry asked, just to be sure. They were wizards after all. ''It doesn't.'' Fred reassured. ''I've never seen him like this before. I'm not sure what to do, how to react.'' Fred told them, pouring himself a mug of frogtea. He offered Harry one as well, who refused.

''Ron, did you recall what Percy said at breakfast?'' Harry asked. Ron shook his head, ''I was focusing on that great deer-bacon mom served, before I would miss out.'' Ron admitted. ''I think your stomach is taking over your body. Try using your brain for once.'' Fred adviced. ''You weren't listening either.'' Harry deadpanned. ''I had a valid reason.'' Fred defended, but the sheepish grin told everyone otherwise.

''Harry? Didn't know you were here. Should have expected it.'' anther voice added to the conversation, Harry looked up to see Percy. ''Percy, long time no see.'' Harry said, as he shook Percy's hand. ''How are you doing?'' he asked. ''Great. I'm currently applying for a job at the minestry of education. How are things at Hogwarts?'' Percy asked. ''Great. Almost got killed by a basilisk, got betrayed by Ron's former rat, and had to fight a werewolf. But otherwise, fantastic.'' Harry answered.

''You always have been followed by strange circumstances.'' Percy said with a smile. ''Speaking of which, it seemed like they followed us home.'' Fred said. ''Oh?'' Percy asked, ''Are you sure that is not just you and George's childish behavior?'' he asked, as he quirked an eyebrow. ''George is the one suffering from weird behavior, not me. Since you said something at breakfast, he's been silent, and kept banging his head against this very table. I know he's the quiet one of us two, but never as reserved as today.'' Fred said.

''Something I said this morning? I only told mom that I've invited my friend, Oliver Wood over for Christmas. She was okay with it.'' Percy said. ''Oliver Wood. As in our former beloved beater, our Scottish hero? The former quidditch coach of Gryffondor.'' Ron said excitedly. ''Oliver Wood, the one that complied with that awful joke Katja pulled on me, and took our brother's innocent lips?'' Fred asked as well. ''Maybe he thinks Oliver wants to get us in shape, for Quidditch.'' Ron said. ''What the?'' Percy didn't finish his sentence. ''Ron decided to replace his brains with his stomach, don't bother. Maybe George is tired. Just let it go.'' Harry said.

''You are probably right.'' Percy agreed, before he heard some banging on the door. ''I'll get it. Go to bed, before mom sees you. She'll throw a fit, for not being fit for Christmas if we don't sleep.'' Percy said. The three teens nodded, before bolding upstairs. Percy swallowed, what if it was a potentious dark wizard, or worse, the one-who must not be named? He shook his head, but held his wand prepaired, just in case, as he opened the door.

''Perce, I'm sorry for bothering this late, but I arrived earlier then expected.'' Oliver said. ''I can see that. That eager to celebrate Christmas here?'' Percy asked with a grin, putting his wand away. Olived nodded, ''Mind if I come in? Scotland may be windy, but United Kindom is far more chilly than out strong wind.'' Oliver said. ''By any means, come in.'' Percy said, ''We didn't expect you this early though. I'm not sure if we can give you a place to sleep.'' he added. ''All I need is a couch, I already brought a blanket.'' Oliver said, a charmish smile on his handsome face.

Fred entered his room, as he spotted his brother sleeping seemingly peacefully. Still, his mind seemed clouded, and the troubled feeling hadn't vanished. He quietly sneaked over, before ruffling trough George's hair. ''What's troubling you? You are acting so strange.'' he wondered out loud. ''Not stranger than when you are around Angelique.'' his brother replied, blinking his eyes a few times. ''You weren't sleeping, were you?'' Fred asked, George nodded his head. ''So, who's on your mind then? Better not be Angelique.'' Fred joked, laying next to his brother. George snuggled closer, Fred always provided nice comfort. ''She's not. She'll be yours to handle, I keep my hands away from that.'' George answered. ''She's feisty, that is why I like her to begin with.'' Fred joked.

George smiled, the comfort of Fred's arm nearly lulling him into sleep. ''So, who is it?'' Fred eagerly asked. ''You are not going to give up anytime soon, are you?'' George asked, Fred shook his head. ''I'm your twin brother, we're supposed to support each other.'' Fred said. ''So, when I tell you that I like blokes, then you say?'' George asked, feeling a little shy, glad that Fred couldn't see his flushed cheeks. ''As long as it isn't my chest you're gawking at, I'm cool with it. More ladies for me.'' Fred said.

Relief washed over George, ''Thanks. I've been needing to hear that.'' he replied. ''How long have you been holding that in?'' Fred asked. ''Two years, or so.'' George told him. ''Isn't that when Katja asked you and-'' things began to click in Fred's mind. ''You aren't really pregnant, are you?'' he asked, pretending to be shell-shocked. ''No.'' George said, ''But it was a nice perk you believed that. We haven't done that much, I doubt he'll remember it. No one wants to remember such a mortifying moment.'' he answered. ''Wouldn't be too sure about that. Why don't you fetch some sleep? At least you've someone to confide in from now on.'' Fred told his younger brother. ''Much appreciated. Don't go babbling this around.'' George said, before falling into a deep sleep.

Fred watched his brother go asleep, as he recalled the events of the dreadful day that Katja of all people had pulled a prank on him. He had remembered the elated look on her face, the satisfied glint his brother had when Oliver had kissed him, and the charming way Oliver seemed to care for said twin brother. And as the genius he was, his mind was starting to come up with oh-so many ways to have his brother happy by the end of Christmas.

George was one of the first that morning to wake up, as he silently headed downstairs to enjoy some tea. When he walked downstairs, he spotted a sleeping figure on the coach. ''Dad, have you been drinking again? Mom will kill you-'' his breath hitched as he spotted who it really was. Dark brown eyes stared back at him, as he asked, ''Did you just call me dad?'' ''Oliver, I'm sorry. I didn't mean too.'' George blushed.

A devilish smile appearred on Oliver's face. ''Techinically, I recall this incident at Hogwarts, Gryffindor room was it? How is our precious baby doing?'' he asked. George grinned, as he catched on the little joke. ''Marvelous. He's been keeping me awake, and poops like his life depends on it. Did I mention that he's learning to fly?'' George said sarcistically. ''Such raw talent. Happens when the parents are that awesome.'' Oliver said.

''So, how are you doing?'' George asked. ''Great. I'm living the dream, I've always been fond of quidditch.'' Oliver said. ''Never noticed.'' George said, before adding ''I always thought you hated it.'' he joked. ''Are you mocking me?'' Oliver asked. ''Just kidding you.'' George replied. ''There happens to be severe punishment for those who mock my very life.'' Oliver said, ''It's called tickledeath. Can't do that to my favorite mommy of course, but I can tickle you until you'd say merlin.'' Oliver replied.

''Oliver, I...-'' George hesitated to continue. ''Something wrong?'' Oliver asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. ''I'm glad you are joining us for Christmas.'' George setteld on saying. ''Me too.'' Oliver nodded in appreciation. An awkward silence grew inbetween them, as George wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Oliver eventually said, ''Are the others awake yet? I'd like to fetch a shower, but don't wish to be a bother.''

''You are not!'' George instantly said, maybe a little too loud, making Oliver scrunch his eyebrows. ''A bother I mean.'' George said, this time using his volume. ''Oh.'' Oliver said dumbfounded. ''As far I was concerned, no-one was awake yet. Go ahead. It's upstairs, the room on the left next to the staircase, first floor. You can take one of the towels of the towering pile that is present in the bathroom.'' George told him. ''Thanks mate.'' Oliver replied, before heading upstairs.

''Subtle.'' a voice said, about three minutes after Oliver was gone. George snapped his head up, expecting Fred to have eavesdropped, or even worse, Percy. Instead he found Charlie, leaning against the door that led to the kitchen. ''How much did you hear?'' George asked, not bothering to be pretend he was suprised or offended. ''Nearly most of the conversation. I assumed that the daddy/ mommy stuff was a joke.'' Charlie said. ''Sort of, it was part of a prank we pulled on Fred.'' George said.

''But, the flirting tone, and the laid-back attitude from either of you seemed sincere. Did your prank leave more than bargained for? You don't have to hide from us, we're your family.'' Charlie explained, before offering his mug of coffee to George. ''I don't like coffee, more Fred's thing. And we weren't flirting.'' George countered. ''Could have fooled me. Both of you were as corny as mating dragons.'' Charlie said. ''Eww.'' George instantly reacted. ''Yeah, not my best comparision, but you get the drift. I can you the same advice as Nancy.'' Charlie said.

''Nancy? I assume a new pet dragon? Also, Nancy, really?'' George guessed. ''Yup.'' Charlie replied. ''Thanks, but no thanks.'' George said. ''Shouldn't we prepare breakfast for once, rather than mom. She'll throw a fit, she is always agitated with Christmas.'' he added. ''Sure, why not.'' Charlie shrugged, he and George had always prepared breakfast together for mother's day when they were younger, what was the big difference?

As they started preparing food, Fred woke up, noticing the empty spot next to him. 'George is up early. Oh well, maybe he was wondering if Oliver had arrived yet.' Fred was about to shook it off, before he noticed someone was taking a shower (perks of sleeping near the bathroom). A devious masteridea entered as mind, as he really figured he should switch George's shirt for a more fancier one, rather than their mother's interesting sweaters. He pulled a tight-fitted shirt with a reindeer from his drawer, before sneaking towards the said shower, and quickly exchanged the shirts. When he got out, he watched the shirt he had switched, before wondering where the hell George had gotten that, before shrugging it off, prefering to go ahead and eat something already.


End file.
